


Shatter

by nothingelsematters



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Fluff and cuddles, Gen, Nationals 2014, angstymax is my favourite max, evil z makes a cameo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-20
Updated: 2014-04-20
Packaged: 2018-01-20 03:24:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,321
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1494766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingelsematters/pseuds/nothingelsematters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The most heartbreaking moment of 2014 US Nationals belonged to Max Aaron, and the devastated look in his eyes, behind the smile, that told it all.</p>
<p>After a press conference which Max thinks should be reclassified as slow torture, he finds a place to hide.</p>
<p>Only, he forgot quite how well two of the other medallists know him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shatter

Max tried his hardest to smile as he followed Jeremy and Jason into the press conference. Tom was telling him it wasn’t over, he’d talk to the selection committee and press his case, but Max knew. They wouldn’t leave Jason off after that magical performance, and nor should they. And they wouldn’t leave Jeremy – wildly popular Jeremy, the darling of the fans and federation – off the team. That left Max in the cold, and he knew it.

He remembered this moment last year. When he’d been led into the room with a spring in his step, and his head held high, followed by a delighted Ross and a sulking Jeremy. He remembered how much Jeremy’s pouting had hurt his feelings last year, so he determined to be gracious.

But his heart was shattering into a thousand pieces inside.

He barely knew how he got through the press conference. He did his job, and said many pretty things about Jason and Jeremy, while trying not to look at either. Actually, he was trying not to look at anyone too closely. He feared if he met anyone’s eye, he’d break down there and then.

By the time the press conference finished, his cheeks ached from the forced smile. He knew they had to wait now. The selection panel was meeting. Soon, Max’s phone would either buzz with a text or remain silent. He didn’t know which he could deal with. And he certainly wasn’t going on social media – he knew there would be many – far too many – gloating at his misfortune.

Max made instantly for the cupboard in the back dressing room. He’d hidden here once before, when he had been much younger, at a different competition. Now he slipped in again, curled up in a ball, and tried his level best to compose himself. He had to put on a brave face. He had to pretend it was all right.

So wound up was Max in his struggle to change his feelings that he didn’t notice the cupboard door open again. But he felt another warm body next to his, and then a small, elegant hand on his back, and a head laid gently on his shoulder. Opening his eyes, Max got a face-full of dark brown hair.

“Hello, Max,” Josh’s voice said softly through the gloom, and Max gulped back his sobs, because Josh was so calm, how could he be so calm?

“It’s okay, you know, Max,” Josh continued. “There’s nobody here to see you cry.”

Max fought and fought. He could not cry. He would not cry.

“D’you remember our Junior year?” Josh asked, leaning back on Max. “And Tom was parading us both around, bragging about how he had the two favourites for the title.”

“I remember,” Max found his voice. “I remember. You were his pet then. I was second-rate.”

“And the look on his face when Jason beat us both!”

Max couldn’t help the smile that twitched at the corners of his mouth. Yes, he remembered. Tom had been furious, ropable, that that tiny little kid with no triple Axel had beaten them both. And yet both boys had known, deep down, that the little sprite who waltzed so gracefully to the Pas de Deux from the Nutcracker was as good as, and potentially better, than they were.

“I learned a long time ago, Max,” Josh continued seriously, “There’s no shame in losing to Jason when he’s in that mood.”

Max sniffed back his tears again.

And then Josh’s arms were around him.

“But it’s always, always, okay to cry. Don’t ever let Tom tell you different. Especially tonight.”

Max broke down. All the emotions that had been swirling inside him since Jason had raised the roof came pouring out, and he sobbed his heart out against Josh’s shoulder.

“Was it all a dream?” he sobbed. “I was the champion, I was supposed to go...”

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Josh murmured, leaning his cheek against Max’s curls. “You’ve not been yourself this year, and you know it.”

Max cried, and cried, and cried, until he felt like he had no tears left. Somewhere in the world of pain, he realised that there were tears tracking down Josh’s cheeks too. He knew this must be very hard for Josh. For so many years he and Jason had been neck and neck, and now suddenly Jason had shot beyond him, and earned the goal that had been looking like Josh’s for most of that time.

Max didn’t notice the door opening again, until a large hand settled in his hair, stroking it; a pair of lips ghosted his cheek, and then someone cuddled up to him and whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“No!” Max howled, clutching Jason to him and burying his face in the ponytail. “No! Don’t be sorry – I can’t – no! It’s not your fault!”

There was a long silence, where heavy breathing was brought back under control, and slowly the three young men straightened up and faced each other. Jason’s was the only face not stained by tears; but the bright happiness of his eyes was dimmed by the pain he knew he had inadvertently caused two of his closest friends.

There was a soft beeping, and the glow of a phone.

For a moment, none of them moved. Then slowly, Joshua pulled his phone out of his pocket. It was dark, and still.

Neither Max nor Jason moved. They knew that whatever happened next would hurt the other.

Jason reached into his pocket, and pulled out his phone, the screen glowing with the notification: _1 unread message._

He swiped it open – and suddenly his face was glowing brighter than the phone, and the other two knew what it meant. Max’s hand dove into his own pocket, but the screen of his phone was also dark, and they knew. It would be Jeremy and Jason.

Max looked up into the glow of Jason’s face, and some of that glow pierced the cold shattered remnants of his heart. Lurching forward, he hugged Jason with as much genuine feeling as he could muster.

“I know you’ll be great,” he whispered.

“I know you will be too,” Jason smiled. “Whatever happens, you’re still a champion. They can never take that title from you. And there aren’t many champions who can say they defended so strongly in an Olympic year.”

And for the first time since the end of Jason’s long program, a genuine smile spread across Max’s face.

“Come on,” Jason said, standing up awkwardly. “I need to go tell my parents, and it’s gala time for all of us. We have to get ready to watch Josh and his emo ballad.”

Josh elbowed Jason as he stood up too. Max stood last, and grabbed both of them before they could say anything else.

“Thankyou, guys,” Max choked. “Thankyou.”

“Aww, don’t get all mushy,” Josh muttered. Then he bent and kissed Max’s cheek. “You’re always welcome, Max.”

“How do I look?” Jason fretted with his hair. Max reached up and patted a few stray strands back into place.

“Like an Olympian,” he said firmly, and dusted his own jacket off.

He was still shattered, and he knew he would probably cry about it again later. But he knew he must still train hard, be a good alternate. And then...well, he was only twenty-one. There was time yet for another Games.

His brain shifted into overdrive and began making a mental checklist of things he had to do.

“Hey Max, this way,” Josh said, grabbing his hand and pulling him down the corridor, in the opposite direction to Jason, now sobbing and shrieking with Kori and his family. “Gala, remember?”

“Yeah,” Max answered. And the blood pounding in his ears took on a different rhythm.

_Nextyearnextyearnextyearnextyear..._

His face set in grim lines. If the world thought they had seen the last of Max Aaron...

...he would prove them wrong.

**Author's Note:**

> So I was re-watching Nationals videos tonight, especially Jason's Riverdance. At the end, the NBC cuts to a shot of Max sitting on a couch backstage, clapping, but his smile is tight and the expression in his eyes says clearly, "What are my chances of BOTH Ricky and Jeremy melting down? One, yes. Two? Not likely."
> 
> Max's sad, sad eyes - and his graciousness and smiles in the face of all that heartbreak - haunted me for days after Nationals and was possibly exacerbated by the rude, cold reception he got at the Gala.
> 
> BASICALLY I ADORE MY GOLDEN TRIO OF MAX, JOSH AND JASON AND I JUST WANTED TO FLUFF THEM TOGETHER.
> 
> #worlds2015
> 
> Joshua and Max were stablemates under EVIL ZAKRASJEK for two-and-a-half-years (Max arrived into the stable in 2009, Joshua escaped in 2011).


End file.
